


on the verge of running into your arms

by RennieOnIceCream (Hitsugi_Zirkus)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Fluff, M/M, Silly, Sweet, hair petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/RennieOnIceCream
Summary: “Yurio is a good boy -- uh, when he wants to be,” Yuuri said with a smile. “But in all I think he’s not very used to friends and not very...affectionate.”“Not cute at all!” Viktor agreed, though he was grinning through the insult.“Just be patient with him and don’t be surprised when he shows his spikes,” Yuuri said, attempting to smooth Viktor’s words over. “Either way, we’re glad you both can get along with each other and be friends.”Otabek wasn’t quite sure what the two of them meant -- Yuri had yet to reject Otabek in any way. In fact, with everything Otabek asked, Yuri always accepted him inside his heart without question.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Second Otayuri! And probably lots more to come once I watch the new ep. I want to write endlessly for them, they're so pure and soft. I'm love. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading this one. Still in the middle of doing experimental drabbles exploring their relationship, but I'll get to the more plotty and spicier stuff soon, just bear with me and enjoy the fluff. 
> 
> I keep listening to such cheesy playlists when I write for them, I don't know why?? But maybe that explains the dumb titles I'm giving these Otayuris smh

Otabek always asked.

He asked Yuri if he wanted to get on his motorbike and escape.

He asked Yuri if he wanted to be friends. 

He asked Yuri where they should spend the evening, what should they eat, how Yuri liked his tea. He apologized then asked if it was okay if he stretch his legs a bit under the table, and Yuri didn’t mind in the least when their feet nudged against one another as their time at the cafe carried on. 

On that day, Otabek wanted to know his first friend better, and the two ended up turning the hours doing just that. He wanted to know who Yuri Plisetsky was beyond the skater he’d observed from afar five years ago. With each fact and quirk and nuance Otabek learned about Yuri, he smiled. Yuri was just as interesting and energetic as he looked, but getting to know him on such a personal level, he looked more and more like an ordinary, excitable boy -- and Otabek meant that in the best way possible. 

Every skater was someone off the ice, after all. And Otabek was glad that he decided to reach out and ask who  _ Yuri  _ was. 

He asked Yuri what he thought if he cheered for him at the Grand Prix Final. 

“Huh?” Yuri clinked his spoon in his teacup, as if stirring and sorting out his own thoughts in it. “I mean, I don’t mind? But we’re rivals, you know. You should save that energy for when _ you _ ’re on the rink. If you don’t bring your best out there, I’ll kick your ass.” 

Otabek nodded. “I just figured that was a normal things friends did.” 

Bright, green eyes stared at him from behind the teacup as Yuri drank. When he lowered it, he was grinning, a challenge glowing on his expression. “Alright, Otabek, you can cheer for me. And,” he hid behind the cup again, “I’ll do the same for you, alright? It’s the, uh,  _ friendly  _ thing to do, I guess.” 

* * *

He asked Yuri if he could touch his hair. 

Yuri glanced up from his phone. “What for?” 

“Because I want to,” Otabek replied simply. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You can say no.” 

“No, it’s fine! I mean, go for it, y’know.” Yuri, lazy as a cat, rolled over a few times on the hotel bed until his head was but a few tiny inches from Otabek’s thigh. 

Permission had been given easier than he thought, not that he was complaining. Otabek reached out, running his fingertips delicately down the fall of blond hair -- soft. Surprisingly no tangles from what he could feel. 

For a few minutes, Otabek petted through Yuri’s hair, first simply smoothing it down with his palm, then raking his fingers gently through it. It was longer of course since the last time he had seen Yuri, and now the angelic blond hair tickled against Yuri’s shoulders. 

“You’re going to tie your hair back for tomorrow, aren’t you?”

Yuri grunted. At some point, he had gotten off his phone, and his forehead was now pressed against Otabek’s thigh. The cat imagery from before suited him even better now as he indulged in the attention of the petting. 

“It’s what the old hag wanted,” he said, breath muffled and warm against Otabek even under his jeans.

Otabek gathered as much of Yuri’s hair as he could, lightly pulling it back. “You’ll look nice with it all out of your face,” he observed.

“I  _ like  _ it in my face,” Yuri muttered, half-heartedly swatting at Otabek’s hand. 

“Are you going to keep growing it out?” 

Yuri made a noncommittal sound. Otabek sighed through his nose, but he smiled lightly down at the boy starting to curl up against him. The fatigue from earlier today still wore fresh on his muscles, and even Otabek was feeling exhuasted. There was still another long day tomorrow, and tension was still high among the skaters -- but Yuri had come into his room to get away from it, even though Otabek was a well-proven rival.

Perhaps he was a well-proven friend as well.

He asked, “Do you want me to keep doing this?” He started petting through Yuri’s hair again, the scent of the hotel shampoo heavily wafting up.

Yuri was quiet. Had he already fallen asleep? But no, Otabek felt him nod against his leg. Smiling a small smile to himself, Otabek continued to stroke over his angel-soft hair, until he heard Yuri’s breaths even out.

* * *

He asked the Japanese Yuuri and Viktor what Yuri was like. The two had been giving him curious looks lately, and Otabek could only surmise that it was because of how close he’d gotten to Yuri recently. Judging by their wide smiles when he introduced himself as Yuri’s friend, that was apparently the case. 

Most of the skaters had already left for the banquet, yet somehow Yuuri and Viktor were still here, despite the sure expectation for the gold medalist to show up. It was hard to keep holding a grudge on Yuuri once he was off the ice -- he was just so warm, albeit skittish. Otabek himself was lingering behind after he spotted Yakov, who told him with a huff that Yuri was still holing himself up in the hotel room.

“Yurio is a good boy -- uh, when he wants to be,” Yuuri said with a smile. “But in all I think he’s not very used to friends and not very...affectionate.” 

“Not cute at all!” Viktor agreed, though he was grinning through the insult. 

“Just be patient with him and don’t be surprised when he shows his spikes,” Yuuri said, attempting to smooth Viktor’s words over. “Either way, we’re glad you both can get along with each other and be friends.” 

Otabek wasn’t quite sure what the two of them meant -- Yuri had yet to reject Otabek in any way. In fact, with everything Otabek asked, Yuri always accepted him inside his heart without question. Sure, Yuri’s usual temperament kept others at bay, but Otabek had already been set in his decision to get to know Yuri better and was prepared to deal with Yuri’s barriers. 

Besides, even with his “spikes,” Otabek felt like he could understand where Yuri was coming from. 

He left it at that with Viktor and Yuuri and turned around to head to the elevators. The button for the eighth floor lit up as he pushed it without thought, and then waited to arrive. 

When he knocked on the door, he expected to be ignored at first, but surprisingly it only took five seconds for the lock to click back and the door to open. Yuri stood there, already in a suit, albeit his jacket was discarded somewhere and his mint-green dress shirt was rumpled a bit. His hair was pulled back too in a style similar to when he performed his free skate, which left the glimmer in his eyes to be clearly seen as they peered up at Otabek. 

“You don’t look surprised that it’s me.”

“Yakov and the old hag have a different knock than yours. Yours isn’t all  _ demanding  _ and shit,” Yuri said, breaking off into a mutter at the door’s frame. 

He asked if he could come inside.

Yuri glanced down and nodded, stepping back to let Otabek step into the room. The lock clicked back into place as the door shut, and Yuri went on ahead to sit on the edge of his bed. Otabek continued to stand, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants. There was every reason for Yuri to reject Otabek right now, but he didn’t -- his shoulders were relaxed, his expression open and contemplating. 

“Are you planning to stay in here all night?” 

“Are  _ you  _ planning to drag me out?” Yuri countered. He flopped on his back on the bed and crossed his arms, daring anyone to move him from the spot.

Otabek shook his head. “I don’t like the social gatherings either. But our coaches will really give it to us if we don’t show up.” He offered a half-smile. “We don’t have to go until the last minute, if you want.” 

At that, Yuri lifted his head to look at him. “What, you’re going to stay here with me?” 

Instead of answering, Otabek moved to sit on the bed too. Then, slowly in comparison to Yuri’s decisive haste, he laid back next to Yuri, crossing his arms over his chest as well. After a moment of staring at the ceiling, he turned his head to the boy next to him. 

Yuri was staring back, wide-eyed and with pink filling his cheeks. Then he broke out into a smile before his little body jerked with laughter. “What the hell!” he laughed. “You’re so serious!”

Otabek didn’t take offense, and actually smiled wider this time at the sound of Yuri’s amusement. It felt like Yuri accepting him. Otabek wondered if he always would. 

Yuri wriggled closer to him, the corners of his eyes still crinkled as he pressed their shoulders together. Despite his lithe body, he felt a lot stronger than he looked.

He asked if he could hold Yuri’s hand. 

Yuri’s flushed cheeks turned a darker pink. “Go for it,” he said, tucking hair behind his ear before he realized with embarrassment that his hair was already tied back. 

Otabek inched his fingers closer, feeling over the bone of Yuri’s knuckles before lacing their fingers together. It was a more intimate kind of holding than simply gathering up Yuri’s hand in his, but he wasn’t met with any objections. Yuri seemed to smile secretly to himself. Otabek had expected him to be more angry and sullen than what he was met with, but minute by minute, Yuri relaxed with his presence. 

Slowly, Yuri squeezed his hand. In the comfortable silence that settled, Otabek thought about what else he wanted to ask Yuri. There were about a hundred things that came to mind but none of them seemed right for the time. But then in a sudden burst of inspiration Yuri sat up, still holding Otabek’s hand.

“Yanno what?” he said, and pulled out his phone with his free hand. “We should show those bunch of losers that we don’t need their banquet. You and me can have a lot more fun just to ourselves.” He scrolled through his phone, and in the next second, music blared out -- fast-paced and bass-heavy that filled the room with a colorful electronic pulse. 

Otabek looked at Yuri curiously. Yuri was grinning, already loosening his tie. He pulled them both to their feet so suddenly that Otabek was pressed against Yuri chest-to-chest. It was hard to tell if he was disoriented from the movement or the heavy mix of their cologne.

And Yuri asked him if he wanted to dance.

Otabek thought about saying he didn’t know how to, but then he recalled the dance he’d been having with Yuri all weekend -- asking for a little, and being granted as much into Yuri’s heart; a dance of stepping in someone’s being, then stepping back to allow them into you as well. 

It was a slow dance, but the kind Otabek didn’t mind getting on his feet for if it was for Yuri. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna watch episode 11 in the next hour or so, so look for me on twitter @fuwajellyfish if you wanna see my screaming. Kubo-sensei's tweets before the airing make me so nervous. Will I cry???? Trick question, I'll cry either way.
> 
> ALSO HEY I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY 100TH FIC ON AO3. WHOO. NICE. LET'S SHOOT FOR 100 MORE.


End file.
